School Shooting

A group of teens sit silently scratching their pencils across papers. Each student remains quiet; a steady rhythmic breathing fills the room. A silver haired woman watches the room with steel hawk-like eyes. She twists a pencil between her ageing, wrinkled fingers. Coke bottle glasses reflect the mid-morning sun. A student in the back looks up at the ever ticking clock in the front of the room. It glares down upon theher. The little red hand watches her every move as it slowly moves forward.



In the back corner of the room, sunlight filters through the dusty blinds and weaves its way on to the desk of a girl with long tresses of liquid bronze. Her dark lashes bow demurely down at her paper, shadowing her innocent, hazel eyes from the impurities of the world. A short, stubby, teeth-marked pencil dances across the page under her capable hands. Her pale fingers guide it to fill the page with the answers her teacher so desperately wants. Each word becomes a sentence under the hateful eye of the evil clock.



“Pencils down. Time’s up.” A sharp voice breaks the silence, harsh as a dog’s lonely bark on a cold, winter’s night. The sound of 32 pencils falling on to hard, plastic desks fills the once empty room. Warm chatter fills the cold room, as the teacher waits for the 33rd pencil to fall. When it doesn’t her tall, jewel incrusted heels take her across the tacky school carpet to the girl with liquid bronze hair’s desk.



“Marybella, the test is over. Hand over your test please.” She says, her cold voice grates against the comforting warmth of the room. The hazel pools of worry look up as the paper is snatched from under her still dancing pencil.



“Sorry, Ms. Bates” Her honey colored voice says through the dull chatter of the room. The woman’s grey covered head nods as her heels take her back away across the tacky carpet. The girl’s shoulders slump down in a sense of relaxation and yet defeat. Another girl covered in black makes her way to Marybella’s desk. Her black long sleeves protect her from the numerous cold shoulders she receives as her combat boots carry her toward her friend.



“Soooooo, how did ya do?” she asks, snapping her hidden pink gum. Marybella looks at her and rolls her eyes. Her hazel irises look up at the grey depressing ceiling. Her pale, pretty lips try to hide a smile at her friend. She pulls her long snow white sleeves over her slender fingers.



“Alright, but question #42 tripped me up. How about you Shay? She asks her friend as she swings her jean covered legs around to the side of her desk. The black denim rests easily on the plastic chair. The hug her curves tightly and are tucked in to her dark brown Uggs.



“Well, I didn’t get #42 either. Let’s just say I didn’t do great, but I didn’t fail either. She says with a sugary laugh. Her hands gloved in black fingerless lace pull herself on to Marybella’s sandy painted desk. They smooth down her dark denim skirt over her vibrant neon green tights. The skirt is remarkably short and speaks a mind of its own with hand-painted black poetry of death. Its white curling tips of faying fabric try to stick up even though Shay desperately tries to smooth them down.



“Guess what my absolute favorite step mother decided to do?” her voice becomes dark, filled with sarcasm and venom. Her raccoon eyes fill with hatred and her purple painted mouth turns down in a sour tasting grimace.



“What did that idiot do now?” Marybella asks, her honey voice filled with concern. She brushes a strand of hair behind her multiply pierced ears. Rows of tiny rainbow hoops stare at the depressing girl on her desk.



“She thinks that I don’t have enough acceptable friends, so she signed me up for church choir and Sunday school.” Shay replies, utter disgust and revulsion creep into her already dark tone. Her thoughts take a dark and twisted route as her friend watches the scowl on her face become worthy of Ebenezer Scrooge.



“Shay…..I know that you hate her and all, but she is just trying to do what she can. Plus you love to sing.

Marybella replies. She leans down and beings to scrape a bit of dry, dusty dirt of the bottom of her boots. Shay emits a gloomy sigh, for she knows her friend is right.



“I know, but did she really have to sign me for church choir? Even she knows how much I hate that place.” Shay says, her voice sways through the air like a venomous snake dancing to the hypnotizing melody of a murderous flute. Her thoughts take her back to her middle school years. She had hated anything to do with churches or God since then. 5 years ago in her 8th grade year her mother had been murdered. She had gone into the church one Saturday night to pray for her father who was in the hospital. She hadn’t known though that two thugs were in the process of robbing the donations the church. The men got scare when they saw. They shot her four times through the heart. She died instantly. Shay had felt as if God had given up on her. He had allowed her mother to die in one of his places of worship. She felt as if he turned a blind eye to her, so she turned a blind eye to him.



“Whoa Christian present!” A voice like the sea says from behind Shay, who has now gotten up from her perch on Marybella’s desk. The voice comes form a teenage boy. His tan skin shines in the lazy mid-morning sun which has snuck through the perpetually dusty blinds. His neon orange shoelaces trail behind his overly large feet as he makes his way over to Marybella. He leans down. His lips touch hers in romantic kiss. A quick one, though for Shay clears her throat with a loud cough. Blood rises behind Marybella’s already pink cheeks. Shay smiles and winks at her before turning her attention back to the boy.



“You’re hardly a Christian, Ben. You never go to church, you are always hanging out with us Sunday mornings.” She says jokingly, her once bleak, dark voice returns to its normal spicy cinnamon self. Her words joke through the air.



“Well, I just can’t bear to be away from Marybells and since she is always with you, I just have to endure your presence.” He says with a sly smile and a wink at Marybella. His tan skinned fingers brush back a part of his long brown and blonde hair behind his ear. Shay rolls her onyx irises to the ceiling where she studies the cracking plaster. The cracks danced together to form little people staring down at the scene. She returned her eyes to her friends and her purple-painted mouth twisted into its own sly smirk.



“Oh come on Benny-boy! You know you love me!” She says, her voice filled with laughter and joy. Blood rushes to Ben’s dark-skinned face with embarrassment at his annoying nickname. Marybella’s eyes roll upwards to look at the people on the ceiling as well, her pale lips trying to hide a tiny giggle which threatens to escape. She leans against the wall and nearly falls off her chair in the process. She stares up at the ceiling again, this time not rolling her eyes, but just looking. Tiny cracks seem to form little shapes which intrigue and she followed them with her hazel irises. Shay looks around quickly for Ms. Bates. Her coal black eyes dart back and forth. Then she sticks her gum covered tongue out of her mouth. She begins to try and blow a bubble. It grows into a decently sized pink bubble of sugary gum.



Suddenly a ruler comes by and pokes it. The pink gum goes all over Shay’s face. Ms. Bate’s overly ruby lips smile and her eyes twinkle with hidden laughter. She tucks her cruel ruler under her crueler arm. Her tall, jeweled heels carry her across the school’s tacky carpet towards other wrongdoers. Shay’s cold black eyes glare at the others, daring them to say anything. Their many colored eyes catch each other. Suddenly there is no way to contain their raucous laughter. Marybella’s sugary laugh sprinkled with rainbow colored joy joins Ben’s rough beach wind like laugh and Shay’s usually cynical, but sharp cinnamon laughter in a song of pure friendship. Ben’s oceanic eyes sparkle with laughter and joy. A bubble of pure happiness formed around the three best friends.



Suddenly their bubble was popped with a signal word from the loudspeakers. Every eye became riveted to the speakers. Every ear was attentive. Every limb rigid. A signal word repeated, loudly through the silent room making everybody’s blood run cold. The room turned deathly silent, no one dared to but breathe. The word bounced off the walls, repeating over and over again. Intruder. Intruder. Intruder.



Suddenly everything turned cold. Everyone snapped into motion. People were running and trying to find places to hide. It was if though someone had pressed the mute button in the classroom, for no one dared to speak. Ms. Bates’ long manicured red nails deftly switched ff the white plastic light switch. Her heels carried her towards the door. She held a ring of keys in her shaking hands. Shay dove underneath the desk she had been leaning on moments before. She pulled her neon green knees up to her lack chest. She squeezed her raccoon eyes shut. She hoped with all her heart the nothing bad would happen. Ben grabbed Marybella’s hand and pulled her roughly out of her desk. He dragged her behind her desk, where a few bookshelves hid the corner on the room. Her purple covered feet ran along passing over the tacky school carpet. They dove in behind the oaken bookcase. It didn’t have a back and was filled with books. Marybella saw Ms. Bates head towards the door through a gap between 99 Minutes and Lovely Bones. The tattered back of Lovely Bones brushed softly against her pink, baby-smooth check as she peered through the gap. She saw Ms. Bates fumble with the key. She leaned back against Ben, her back against his grey and green t-shirt. Her wrapped a dark-skinned arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. His head dipped down, so that his pale lips briefly touched her beautiful hair. He rested his dark-skinned chin on her bronze locks. He closed his eyes and began to mouth a prayer. He was paying that nothing would happen, even though deep in his heart he knew something would.



At the font of the classroom, Ms. Bates’ hands would not stop shaking. They were fumbling trying to find the right key in the dark when the door suddenly began to open. A sliver of devilish light came from the well lit hallway as someone tried to force their way in. Ms. Bates slammed her frail body against the cold, metal door. She pushed against it with all the might, her aging, weak body had. Her eyes took on an animalistic fear, as she desperately tried to save hers and students’ lives. The cotton purple blouse, which had been so carefully pressed this morning now crumpled up against the door, trying to push it back. The person on the other side gave the door a shove. It sent poor Ms. Bates flying backwards. Her tiny body tried to resist, but failed. She landed with a soft thump on the blue, yellow, green, and orange carpet. The intruder stood bathed in the swirling light in the doorway. A black hood shrouded his malicious face, while a sliver pistol glinted in his meaty hand. The intruder was no more but a boy their age. His large girth allowed him to push back the tiny teacher. Large, baggy, midnight sweatshirt and sweatpants shrouded his figure. The black clad arm raised slowly and pointed itself at the trembling teacher on the floor. Two blue eyes frozen with fear stared up at him as a shot rang through the air. It rang through the silent classroom. Everything went into slow motion, just like in the movies. The bullet whistled its way down through the air finding its target at Ms. Bates’ heaving breast. It shot through the cotton fabric and straight into her still-beating heat. It stopped its rhythmic beating and stilled. A hush fell over the room. No one dared to so much as breathe. Her wide eyes remained frozen, but the spark of life had disappeared into thin air. A flower of murderous blood began to blossom on her breast. The killer stared at it with a fascinated type of wonder. The silence was broken suddenly like a mirror shattering with a scream from some where in the middle of the class. The killer’s head snapped up, his coal eyes grazing the classroom. His face was thrown into the light. Sagging black circles flashed under boxy glasses. Short black stubble stared at the scene from his acne ridden cheeks. Large nostrils widened as he surveyed the class. Cold calculating coal like eyes stared out from underneath large bushy ebony brows. Hair to match slick with sweat hid beneath the black hood in the shadows.



Shay’s purple and black nails quickly covered her opening mouth to hide a surprised gasp. Her onyx eyes recognized him, the second the traitor light displayed his face. He was Tom Wellen. He was known around as the AV guy or Techno Wizard. Generally well liked, he was a nice guy, but a bit slow with social situations. She couldn’t believe he would do this. He had always been sweet, even if he was a bit on the rude side. Her eyes widened with fear and sadness. What had driven him to this, she asked herself. Marybella was asking herself the same thing. She had snuck a peak after she heard the shot. Ben pulled her back from the gap, right before Tom’s calculating eyes reached it. His oceanic eyes flashed with anger and sadness. He wanted to rip Tom’s throat for putting them all in danger and killing Ms. Bates. She didn’t deserve to die. His thoughts were interrupted by a sob from the front of the class.



A shuddering figure was curled up, her knees were to her chest. Sobs racked her body. Tom looked at her. His cold eyes remained unsympathetic and glazed over. He cocked his head to the side as he watched her rock back and forth under the desk in the shadows. He looked at her, then his eyes flashed to the gun he held in his hand. The silver glinted in the light coming from the hallways. He walked over in front of her. He stood there silently. Then he opened his mouth.



“Why are you crying?” he asked like a child in a confused voice. His smooth voice wandered through the girl’s ears. Her name was Rebecca Samson. Flaming red hair framed his innocently shaped face as she turned it to face the intruder. He stared at her. She back against the front of the chair. He smiled.



“What are you afraid of Becca? What are you afraid of? What are you afraid of?” he asked softly repeating himself again and again till he stared mumbling. Rebecca whimpered. Her green eyes were wide with animalistic fear. Her arms, clad in white long sleeves, pulled her trembling blue jean legs to her chest. She closed her eyes and tried to disappear. Tom looked at her. He began to get angrier with every second she didn’t answer.



“Why won’t you answer me Becca? I think you should. Bad things might happen to you if you don’t.” He said in a low growling voice. His eyes glazed over again as Rebecca huddled against the chair. He pointed the silver pistol of death at her and pulled the trigger. It went into her pale skin right above her collarbone. It ripped through her lungs and stomach, finally stopping somewhere in her small intestine. By that time though she had already died. A bloody flower of death blossomed upon her innocent white clad body. Her body slumped down. The white fragile hands which had clutched the dark denim fell limply on to the dark blood stained carpet. Tom’s eyes showed no remorse. They were hard steel flashing in the darkness. A tiny hint of madness peers out of the corner. He bent down slowly. His chubby sausage fingers touched her flaming dead hair. It sifted through his fingers falling back onto her bloody breast. His eyes snapped up at the quiet intake of breath beside him. The pistol flashed and took another life.



Its silver grim reaper raced through the air and into forehead of a young man. It lodged itself inside the mass of brain. His head fell back against desk chair, the honey hair slammed against its plastic surface. Brown eyes remained wide with fear. Tiny eyelashes framed the last moments of his life in the dirty orbs. The reflection of his killer resided for eternity in them. Tom’s lips twisted into a joyous grimace. His eyes flashed over the young man’s red letterman jacket. His large foot kicked the corpse in the side. He let out a tiny laugh. The sound of the laughter left chills on the backs of the remaining students’ necks.



He turned and smiled. His eyes searched through the inky blackness for another victim. He rose up from the carpet. His eyes were full of a maniac madness.



“Come out; come out where ever you are. Come on you guys, this is just a little game. You know like the ones you guys played with me. The swirlies and hazing. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t act all innocent. Come out everyone. Let’s play. Come on, let’s play.” His venomous voice snaked its way through the dark corners of the inky classroom. Its hysteric edge cut through the thick, muffling silence. When nobody answered his psychotic request. Anger rose up in his cold eyes.



“Come on! Come out you little bastards!” his large pudgy hands grabbed the side of a plastic desk as he yelled. His voice was filled with a psychotic madness which frightened everybody to their very cores. His large hands tightened around the desk.



“ANSWER ME!! I KNOW YOU’RE HERE! ANSWER ME!!” His face filled with purple rage. His hand lifted the desk up and pushed it on to its side, revealing a cowering form. A tiny girl wrapped in a purple sweatshirt hugged her denim covered legs to her heaving chest. Her eyes darted back and forth under brown framed glasses. Fear radiated from her shaking form. A black ponytail pulled her hair back from her sweet face. A dull chin and strong cheekbones showed her ancestry. Her green eyes looked everywhere but the barrel of the death facing her down.



Her emeralds locked with Shay’s onyx orbs. In those few seconds before the trigger was pulled, Shay saw the girl’s life flash before her eyes. First grade and chasing boys on the playground, 4th grade and playing on the playground, moving to a new house, the birth of a sibling, getting a dog, the death of a grandparent, dying her hair, getting her ears pierced, going shopping with her friends, sixteenth birthday party, driving round town for no reason when she got her license, her first kiss, first boyfriend, homecoming, football games. It was all there, flashing in both the girl and Shay’s eyes. The bullet raced towards the girl’s heart. Every second it came closer to its target. It entered her pale skin. Pushing its way through arteries and veins it stabbed the heart. All blood flow stopped instantaneously. No more would her body move, have fun, or experience any of the joys of life. Blood blossomed upon her sweater as her body slumped back. Her emeralds dull and gone.



Tom’s eyes darted back and forth. His mouth was twitched up in the corner.



“Anybody else here? Now come on everybody, don’t be shy. We wouldn’t want that would we. I know you all talk a lot. I mean one of the main subjects is me, so how could I not know? What have you guys been whispering behind closed doors ehhh? You can tell me, I can keep a secret. “ A frightening edge on his voice made the hairs on the back or Ben’s neck stand up. Tom wasn’t going to stop. He was never going to stop, not until he killed them all.



“Now, now, it’s no fun to keep secrets from me. I mean haven’t you noticed what happens when you keep secrets from me? Just look at Becca. She kept a secret and she died. Do you all want to die too? Now that’s a silly question, of course you do. Otherwise you would’ve kept your mouths shut! Right? So of course you want to die. You want to die. You do. You really do want to die, don’t you?” His ramblings had had passed the sense of understanding. He murmured to himself. He looked around his hands cradling the pistol. One pudgy hand stroked it deadly surface. It was his pet, which would do his bidding and his bidding alone.



“Why does nobody wanna talk to me?” His voice seemed sad. His shoulders slumped. His hand continued to methodically pet the shining surface. His cold eyes filled with emotion for a brief second. Sadness, depression filled the grey orbs. Changing their maniac appearance. Suddenly his eyes glazed over. No sense could penetrate its icy film. The hand began to pet the gun faster and faster.



“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no……….NO! You are scum! All of you! I do not want to talk to any of you! You are dirt under my feet. You are the children of dogs! Nothing more than worms! You all deserve to die!” His voice shook with rage as he yelled at the inky blackness.



“Say your goodbyes everyone.” His voice said quietly snaking its way through the ears of the remaining students. Marybella buried her face into Ben’s soft shirt. She tried to stifle the oncoming sobs. The hand petting the gun continued to pet it faster and faster. A boy on the other side of the room stupidly moved his leg a tiny fraction of an inch. A silver bullet darted across the black abyss and into his thigh. Denim became stained with a blossoming flower of murder. Pain seeped through every pore in his body. His baby blue eyes rolled back into his head as the bullet lodged itself in the bone. Its silver body embedded itself in the boy’s femur. Pain racked him in wave after wave. His pearl like teeth bit down upon his pale lips in a desperate attempt to not scream. His body shuddered uncontrollably. Tears streamed down his face.



“Scream, Tommy. Why don’t you scream Tommy. Scream for help Tommy, nobody will hear you.” Tom laughed his laughter filled the dead silence. It raked its fingernails across the chalkboard and down the necks of students. Ben wrapped his arms tightly around Marybella’s shuddering form.



The gun flashed again killing a girl cowering under the desk. It raced through her dark skinned temple. Her olive skinned head fell to the carpet. Raven hair fell in waves around her, framing her bloodied face for all eternity. Her black glassy eyes stared out from a soulless face. Red painted itself onto her beautiful face, an angry mark of violence for the entire world to see. A portrait hidden in shadows.



Laughter filled the deathly air. It traveled across the room and into the ears of Marybella and Ben. It swooped eerily through the tiny rainbow hoops, playing around with her fear. Tom’s cold eyes grazed the classroom. He placed his hand in the pocket of his black hoodie. His pudgy pale hand pulled out a second machine of death. Its silver sides glinted in the light from the hallway. The cold eyes blurred with a hint of something deeper.



“Come out and play everybody. Come on out. I won’t hurt you.” His chilling voice filled the corners of the room. A deep sigh filled his lungs and his finger twitched n the trigger.



“Oh, I get it now. You guys want to play hide and seek. How stupid of me. Okay ready here I come.” He walked down the aisle. His shoes brushing by abandoned backpacks and books. The gun flashed, shooting its messenger of death into the blue clad shoulder of a girl huddled under a desk. Blood stained her Aerpostle t-shirt. Denim clad legs slumped down, as she clutched the bleeding wound. She doubled over in pain. Blue painted nails became stained with red. Her brown eyes stared at the blood staining her tiny hand as she lifted it to her sight. Her mouth opened. A scream of pain filled the room. Every corner and crevice filled with her pain and fear. No one dared to move as a bullet shot through her neck to silence her. Blood dripped greedily from its kill. Perfectly curled hair hit the blood and blue, as her head slumped down. Her eyes stared unseeingly at the carpet.



Red painted nails tried to cover a beautiful mouth. A tiny gasp escaped through the prison of fingers. Black baby eyes darted to look at the barrel of the gun which had had turned to look at her. A fat finger tightened and released the reaper. It barreled through the air. It nestled into the hip bone at the ridge of her green skinny jeans. Blood seeped into them, creating a beautiful, blossoming, red flower. The red nails blended with the flower. They tried with all their might to stop the flood of blood. Crystal tears formed at the edges f her eyes. Pain seeped though every bone in her body, yet she dared to not make a signal sound. She watched as the barrel of the gun raised to face her forehead. Black eyes watched the finger prepare to tighten. She squeezed her onyx jewels closed and prepared to die.



“Wait, don’t do it Tom.” A voice cam from a corner of the class. A figure rose from her hiding place. Ben watched silently as his best friend walked towards her death. Combat boots carried her as she took a hesitant step forward.



“Don’t take another step!” Tom said as he raised the gun to face her. His eyes bored into her onyx ones. Not a sound filled the room other than Tom’s ragged breathing. It crept into he corners of the room as Shay began to speak.



“Don’t do it Tom. Don’t take any more lives, please.” She begged her cinnamon voice filled with sadness. She took another hesitant step forward. The heavy purple soles of her combat boots carried her across the tiny potion of carpet.

“I said don’t move!” He yelled. His voice tainted with madness beyond any reasoning. Panic flashed in Shay’s cool eyes. She had to try and get him to stop. She couldn’t let him kill any more. She couldn’t let him do it. She would not let anyone else die from this maniac. Her eyes flashed to the bookshelf and met Ben’s. She inclined her head a fraction of an inch. She stepped forward a tiny step. Her voice shook as she tried to reason with the man who held the gun that was staring her down.



“Tom, please don’t kill anyone else. Please. I beg you, don’t do it.” Her voice shivered with fear. Onyx eyes pleaded him to not take another shot. Tom laughed, its chilling melody filled Shay’s ears.



“Why do I care what you want?” He asked laughing. He pointed the gun at a cowering boy under the desk in front of him. Brown curly hair decorated his pale forehead along with a splattering of red pimples. Brown eyes stare down the gun. His eyes reflect the bullet speeding towards him. It traveled straight into his beautifully decorated handsome forehead. A tiny bloody flower formed as his t-shirt clad black hit the ground. A silly saying stared back at his killer as he laughed. The once warm brown eyes stared at the ceiling with the reflection of a bullet hiding in their shadows.



“See, I don’t care what you want. You’re just another idiot like the rest of them.” Tom laughed as he stared at Shay. His fat finger pulled the trigger rapidly twice. Pale skin pulled it back releasing monsters of death and pain. They went squarely into her abdomen. One right below the other. Her black clad body fell slowly through the air. She fell with a soft thud. The class was silent. Suddenly her scream broke the killer quiet. An animalistic sound escaped her lips. Black gloved hands clutched at the wounds. Blood stained and blended with black. Her heart shaped face contorted in pain. Her back lifter off the ground as a wave of pain racked her body. Another scream escaped her purple painted lips. Blackness fought to close in on her sight. Her raccoon eyes widened with another wave of excruciating pain. Blood stained fingers fought desperately in their fingerless gloves against the oncoming flood. Tears flooded her eyes. They traveled down her cheeks and onto the carpet. Another scream racked the class. Blood poured from the wounds. Her strength to hold on to the little life remaining grew less with each second. She fought against the mongers of death as red poured from her body. Her heart pumped precariously, losing strength fast.



Her screams were broken by a maniac laughter. Tom laughed at her pain. He pulled the trigger randomly around the room. No longer did he care. He just wanted them all to pay. He didn’t care who, but they had to pay for his pain. Reaper after reaper followed their brothers and sisters into the bodies of students. They flew rapidly into their victims. Screams of pain filled the room accompanying his maniac laughter. Ben pulled Marybella tighter to him. His arms crushed her tiny body to his and he squeezed his eyes shut as to see no more death. A bullet hit the wood of the bookshelf. One blasted through the paperbacks destroying Calico Palace. Paper fluttered down like a murderous snow. It fell to the carpet as Marybella and Ben huddled together against the wall.



Another bullet made its way into the temple of a boy in the front of the class. Black hair fell against the carpet as the bullet made its impact. It tunneled through his brain finally stopping in the middle. By that time though his green meadow eyes stared at the killing spree before him, with out a single flicker of life left. His white button up was splattered with blood and brain matter, a gaping wound where his temple once was. Blood trickled down the side of his face. It blazed a trail across his dark skinned cheeks and onto the carpet.



Shay fought against the pain and minions of death. The blood continued to seep and her struggles got weaker and weaker. Her long lashed eyes flutter. Finally they fell down. Her onyx eyes hid from the scene of murder behind the translucent eyelids. Her body raised once more with pain. Her black back raised up from its sticky bloody resting place. Her gloved hands had given up on stopping the oncoming flood of blood and slumped by her side. Her nails clawed the ground, trying to remain rooted. Yet they weakened with each passing wave of pain. Her head fell to the side. Her pale check rested against the rough carpet.



Suddenly shouting came from the hall. Noise filled the now silent room. Hope bubbled in Marybella’s heart. Harsh shouting and banging filled the halls as it came closer and closer. Tom’s pupils flashed from side to side. Racing back and forth as panic began to consume him. They race back and forth looking desperately for their escape. They pray that they can find one before it is too late. Suddenly an idea sparks in their cruel souls. The eyes glance toward the shaking grim reaper in his pudgy hand. The arm brings the gun slowly to his head. Everyone watches its slow progression upward. The voices from the hall race faster and faster. The arm continues to raise. Slowly it reaches Tom’s sweaty head. Beads of sweat drip down his puffy nose. The voices race faster and faster. Ben clutches Marybella closer to him. Fear still fervent in his eyes. The mouth of the gun places itself against its owner’s temple. Its cold metal kisses the pale skin.



Suddenly a bullet goes into tom’s leg. The sound f it shooting off reverberates in the now silent room. Tom falls. His leg torn from underneath, the pain to much to bear. The bullet rushes threw his pale flesh as he falls, the pistol flying from his hand. He didn’t have the time to pull the trigger and seal his fate. His body rests upon the ground silently for a moment. Then screams rack the room. They could bloody and fighting from Tom’s hideous mouth. Oaths punch through the whimpering of the remaining students. All eyes slowly turn towards the new shooter.



A young man in around his mid twenties stands gun raised in the doorframe. The light from the hall streams past him on the bloody scene. His black uniform stares at them all. His tag shows their saviors name; Officer Toby Stevens. His brown eyes scan the room, looking for people in need. They immediately alight on Shay. His hand grabs the radio on his shoulder. He speaks rapidly into it as he runs towards her bleeding form.



Ben whispers into Marybella’s ear. His lips brush against her earrings as he says the words she’s been waiting to hear.



“It’s over.”